


Odds Are

by SnailArmy



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Cooking, Fluff, Multi, au - lyf joins the mechanisms, heavily implied prison mechs+lyf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:48:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnailArmy/pseuds/SnailArmy
Summary: Lyf and Ivy have a conversation about a previous conversation.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 84





	Odds Are

Lyf had, all things considered, adjusted very well to life with the Mechanisms. The violence took a bit of getting used to, but the trauma of being ripped away from your home and having immortality foisted upon you by an entity that was morally dubious at best (and an actual eldritch horror at worst) ensured that they and the Aurora's crew had more common ground than was typical between space pirates and an ex-traffic cop. 

One of the more mundane ways Lyfrassir incorporated themselves into the band was weekly kitchen duty. While none of them had any real _need_ to eat, the minor inconvenience of cooking and consuming far outweighed the discomfort of constant starvation. So, a schedule had at some point been established that assigned each person to cook a meal. Some rotations were longer than others; Brian found himself in the kitchen nearly every other day, while Ashes was granted culinary permissions only once in a blue moon. Ivy was in charge of the arcane formulas that calculated who would cook when and for whom, always accounting for members missing, dead, or otherwise incapacitated. 

The first time Lyf was in charge of dinner duty, it was nearly a disaster. They had been around for a while, but never had reason to interface with the complex series of appliances that comprised the galley of the Aurora. Even attempting a simple grilled cheese, Lyf managed to set off several alarms and warning lights. By the time Brian arrived with the fire extinguisher, they were curled up on the floor, sobbing. After that, Ivy made sure there was someone else nearby when they cooked, even as time went on and they got more familiar with the ship. 

It is thus that Lyf found themself standing over a large stock pot (possibly cauldron, they mused), idly stirring a bunch of bones around in some hot water, while Ivy sat at a nearby counter, reading a book and humming softly to herself. The quiet was nice, especially compared to the typical rambunctiousness of the Mechanisms. There was a question that had been nagging at Lyf for a long time, though, and they figured it was as good a time as any to get it off their chest. 

"Hey Ivy?"

She looked up from her book with another gentle hum, this time in acknowledgement. Now that her attention was on them completely, they felt a bit awkward bringing up petty concerns from a past long gone, but it was too late to go back now. 

"Back on Yggrasil, when you took the black box, you mentioned that the arrival of the Ratatosk was the only scenario that had a greater than 30% chance of getting me to interact with you. What were the other scenarios, the improbable ones?" Their old life feels so far away, it's hard for them to imagine any sequence of events other than the ones immortalized into song (and their nightmares). 

Ivy takes a moment to recall, pulling a bookmark from a vest pocket and carefully marking her page before setting the book aside. "Well, we had already received our scheduled meal for that time frame, so it was unlikely that you were bringing food unless you were trying to bribe us. Given your distaste for our criminal endeavors, chances of that were extremely low. It was also possible that you were seeking information unrelated to the train, but we hadn't performed any transport crimes since the last time you'd questioned us, and you hadn't shown any interest in our knowledge of non-transport related subjects. Which is a shame, really, there's a lot that Raphaella and I would have been more than happy to tell you."

"Ah." Lyf continued stirring, adding a dash of purple seasoning from a jar long since bereft of a label. They raised the wooden spoon to their lips as Ivy continued to talk, sipping some of the broth to judge the taste. 

"Those were all highly unlikely, however. The second most probable reason for your appearance that day was to declare your undying love for one or all of us."

They sputtered a bit at that, spraying hot broth over the counter and stovetop. Lyf quickly made the decision to grab a hand towel and start cleaning up, rather than acknowledge Ivy's look of smug amusement. The bastard had almost certainly waited until Lyf's mouth was full to drop that particular hypothetical. 

Once Lyfrassir resumed stirring, Ivy resumed talking. "Of course, von Raum was the most likely candidate, given your previous interactions and the information we had overheard from your coworkers." Lyf blushed a bit at that. They knew some of the other people on the force tended to gossip, but they didn't think it had gotten _that_ bad. 

She continued, "but an attraction to la Cognizi and/or myself wasn't impossible. Especially considering the way you stared at her wings when you first met us." 

Lyfrassir's blush deepened, and they resolutely continued their culinary work. It was hardly their fault that they'd never seen a person with wings before, and that their "awestruck" expression was often confused with "lovestruck." 

"When you say 'second most probable'," Lyfrassir ventured after an awkward moment of silence, "are we talking, like, two percent? One, maybe?"

At this, Ivy let out a small chuckle. "At the time, I calculated the odds at approximately twenty point six-eight percent."

If they had anything in their mouth, Lyf would have done another spit-take. "Surely-"

"It would have been higher," Ivy interrupted, "but I figured that you would be uncomfortable expressing your romantic feelings, especially when the power differential was so high."

At this, they brandished the wooden spoon threateningly, though their smile dissuaded any thought of true ill intent. "You mean to tell me that you knew about my little crush the whole time, and you didn't _do_ anything? You just let me flounder until, until..."

"Until you were ready to talk about it as adults, and as equals." Ivy finished, dismounting from her stool with a hop. She walked over and ruffled Lyfrassir's hair with a smile. "I'll be in the library if you need me, okay? Dinner smells great." 

With that, she turned and walked out the door. Lyf found themself grinning to no one as they began to chop vegetables to add to the stew. They navigated the galley with practiced ease, finding each instrument and utensil in its place.

**Author's Note:**

> yell at me if you want a sequel to this


End file.
